


Last Rite

by Jaydee_Faire



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Alternate Battle Scene, Character Death, Decay, During Canon, Gen, Religious Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27931216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaydee_Faire/pseuds/Jaydee_Faire
Summary: Zalbaag Beoulve is defeated in battle by his brother, Ramza.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Last Rite

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this fic borrow heavily from the Catholic tradition of last rites and anointing of the sick. Other parts are just stuff I made up.

"Ramza," Zalbaag said hoarsely, "please--"

"Stay clear of him," Ramza said, drawing his blade. "I don't want anyone else getting hurt."

"Nonsense." Orlandeau had already shed his cloak. "Ser Tengille, Ser Oaks, flank him. Ramza, I'll keep him occupied, and you can--"

"No." Ramza shook his head. "He is my brother. I will see to this." He stepped forward, ignoring Orlandeau's protests. "...Lord brother," he said quietly. "Zalbaag. It's Ramza."

Zalbaag moved quickly to block the exit, the tip of his sword scraping as it dragged across the tile. He turned his head; where his eyes had been, only gray, shriveled bits of flesh remained, his cheeks streaked with black where some substance had wept from the empty sockets. "I can hear you," he said. "I-- I cannot see. --Don't come any closer," he gasped as Ramza took another step. "I fear I'll harm you."

"You cannot hurt me, Zalbaag," Ramza said evenly. 

"I cannot control my limbs-- my sword moves as if I am pulled by some unseen strings, a puppeteer--"

"I know. It's all right." Ramza readied his sword, letting out a slow breath as he stepped within Zalbaag's reach. His brother lashed out and Ramza stepped neatly out of the way, using his momentum to come around behind and thrust his own blade forward, once, into the center of Zalbaag's back and through his heart. 

Zalbaag made a terrible, strangling grunt, his knees buckling. Ramza caught him beneath the arms, kicking his sword to one side and letting him down on the tile. Zalbaag's body convulsed, his hands twitching, reaching out for Ramza's throat as if to strangle him; Ramza gently pushed them away. "It's nearly done," he said softly. "Try to be still."

"Alma," Zalbaag began.

"I will go to her as soon as we are finished here," Ramza said. "You needn't worry any longer. Just rest."

Zalbaag swallowed, empty eyes closing. "Ramza," he said. "Forgive me. When last we spoke... I..."

"Hush. Think nothing of it. It is passed."

"The things I said to you--"

"Zalbaag." Ramza took his hand, squeezing it in both his own. "You have my forgiveness. And when you are at peace, I will put an end to this, I promise you."

"Peace," Zalbaag croaked. "I fear I... may not find it. I have strayed so far from the path... and I will leave this place so burdened with sin that I may never rise to meet the Heavenly Father."

Ramza laid Zalbaag's hand on the man's chest. "I will pray with you," he said. "I-- do not know how to perform the Final Rite, but--"

"I do," Meliadoul said, coming forward and pushing back her hood. "If you will allow me, Lord Beoulve."

Zalbaag turned his head. "Who is that?"

"This is Meliadoul Tengille," Ramza said. 

"--A Templar?"

"She fights alongside us," Ramza assured him.

Meliadoul knelt beside them. "Lord Beoulve," she said, "I will recite the Call of the Faithful, so that you may repeat after me."

"I know the Call," Zalbaag said, his mouth twisting into something near to a smile. A thick, blackish tear slipped from his eye to his temple. _"I believe in the highest of Saints, in His light and glory..."_

Ramza lifted his head, looking around at the dimly lit mausoleum, at Count Orlandeau walking the perimeter of the room with his eyes on the door, at Agrias portioning out the last of their potions. Rad had pulled a holy icon on a chain out of his shirt and held it to his chest, head bowed in silent prayer. 

Meliadoul tugged off one gauntlet, then the other, pressing her fingers to her lips and then tracing Ajora's seal across Zalbaag's forehead. "His light shines upon you and you are forgiven your sins," she said. "Leave this body, Zalbaag Beoulve, for it has served its purpose. Be freed from your earthly suffering: your hunger, your thirst, your desires, your fears. Go peacefully and unburdened by pain. Go gracefully into His kingdom and His eternal embrace. Faram."

Silence followed; Zalbaag's expression slowly relaxed, his head tipping back into Ramza's arms. Ramza took a breath, the inhalation sharper than he'd intended, and tried to swallow back a sob.

"Oh, Ramza," Zalbaag breathed, "do not weep. Not for me."

"I wish I might have known you," Ramza said. "You, and not the man who saved Ivalice. Not Ser Beoulve. Zalbaag. My brother."

Zalbaag smiled. "When I am gone, you must remember this: I have loved you since the moment I knew you. Our father would be proud of all you've done. All you will do." His hand twitched again, fingers spasming, and he moved as if to reach for his sword. "--Ah--"

"Go," Ramza said, as Meliadoul pulled something from her pocket. "Go, Zalbaag. It's all right."

Zalbaag's body tensed; he raised his head, bracing one hand on the tile. Meliadoul leaned forward, whispering her apologies, and pressed a glittering red feather to the center of his chest. He shuddered once, the last of his breath rattling from his lungs, then fell still.

"Ramza," Orlandeau said after some time, "we must press on. If we're to find Alma--"

"Give him time," Meliadoul said, but Ramza shook his head.

"Count Orlandeau is right. We cannot afford to linger here." He got to his feet, wiping tears from his cheeks with the heel of his hand. "But I must be sure that my brother's body will not be used in this way again." 

It took them some time to move on, and time then still for smoke and the stench of burning flesh to reach the rest of the cathedral. By the time Ramza rode for Orbonne, his rage and his brother's pyre burned hot enough to turn all it touched to ash.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't @ me about whether Meliadoul is actually qualified to do religious rituals, you're lucky I didn't make Cloud do it. 
> 
> If you like my work and want to know how to support me, check out jaydeefaire.carrd.co and help me pay for my dog's vet bills!


End file.
